


city of stars

by luminarium



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Freeform, I'm going there, Size Difference, Size Kink, The La La Land AU no one ever asked for!, these two will be the death of me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-02-27 10:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13246524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminarium/pseuds/luminarium
Summary: The first time they ever saw each other, Rey had unceremoniously given him the finger while honking as loud as she could as she passed by him in the packed streets of L.A. She was already late for an audition and the pretentious prick in his ginormous vintage car didn’t feel like driving, even though the light was green.





	1. someone in the crowd

“ _You have got to be kidding me_ ”.  

She didn’t realise she had said that aloud until his eyes were on hers. There she clearly saw alarm and then annoyance, which wasn’t a surprise given the circumstances of their acquaintance.

The first time they ever saw each other, Rey had unceremoniously given him the finger while honking as loud as she could as she passed by him in the packed streets of L.A. She was already late for an audition and the _pretentious prick in his ginormous vintage car_ didn’t feel like driving, even though the light was green. She tried her best not to let her temper run away with her, but he had been the start of an awful morning. As was typically the case, the part didn’t go to her, but to a more relaxed, poised and prepared young lady, whose shirts weren’t stained with coffee and who had had no trouble at all getting to the studio on time. That day at the coffee shop her bright smile had been tighter than usual, which prompted Finn, her friend, co-worker and roommate, to worry:

“What’s wrong, peanut?”

“Had a lousy start of the day, that’s all.”

“They didn’t give you the part?”

She glared at him, as if she could have gone without him voicing the obvious, but quickly snapped out of it. Finn moved to hold her and she couldn’t stay mad at him for long. He was a really great hugger.

“Well, it’s their loss. You were born to light up the screen, you know.”

“Oh, yes, they’d be lucky to have me!” she barked a bitter laugh, trying to ignore the tears welling up in her eyes. She was just so... _tired_.

“They totally would!”

“Oh, you’re full of it Finn, but I love you.” He swatted her arm, as if he were offended, but his eyes were warm and comforting. “Thanks for putting up with me today.”

“Any time, love. Now, let’s work to get that sad look off your face.”

As it turns out, Finn already had a plan, which involved an obscene amount of alcohol, a list of parties to crash and his boyfriend’s charming smile that, magically, got them in every VIP in town. By 4 AM she was officially tipsy and couldn’t remember why she had spent the day sulking during her breaks and crying into the thousand milkshakes she was asked to make. She couldn’t help but feel, however, utterly alone under the big, flashy lights of Los Angeles, as she made her way down the streets, after politely declining hitting another club.

Her phone buzzed with messages from Poe and Finn but she knew that, try as they might, they would never understand. _What’s the point of it all_ , she asked herself, glancing up at the great billboards that surrounded her. Growing up in foster care in London or packing up and coming to America, living the first three years in L.A. on her own didn’t make her feel as insignificant as she felt at that moment. What made her think she could make it? She was _nobody_.

That’s when she heard it. Music. Not the bombastic blasts of rock and pop to which the Californian night life danced and jumped to, no. This was different and strangely familiar at the same time, as if it was a melody that came from within her, even though she couldn’t hum it to save her life.

The charming tune took her by surprise and ambushed her. She couldn’t get away from it and, in turn, it guided her towards a sordid-looking bar at the end of the street.

Rey stood in front of the darkened door, unsure of what to do. She wasn’t one for jazz, much less for melancholy and blues (her life was messy enough already and she wasn’t fond of reveling too much in her own pain) but something beckoned her to explore the place and the strange rhythm that emanated from within. Emboldened by the alcohol, she stepped into the seedy bar and the first thing that struck her was the heavy smell of cigarettes. Heavy smoke clouded her vision and it gave the room a surreal kind of vibe that, she had to admit, went hand in hand with the tune coming out of the piano.

The piano in question stood in the middle of the room and _h_ e was the one that had been responsible for luring her into this dark and infamous corner of the city.

_God, he was tall._

He sat in front of the instrument, rocking his imposing figure to the music his skilled fingers coaxed out of it. His massive shoulders were slouched slightly forward and his black jacket was painfully strained as a result. Flustered and entranced, she began making her way towards him, watching his hair fall carelessly in front of his eyes. It didn’t matter, though, as she guessed he kept them closed while he played, mindless of his surroundings. He suddenly jerked his head back, engrossed in the music, successfully wiping back most of his raven black locks, giving her the opportunity to see his sharp profile against the dim lights, his long nose and strong jaw dripping with sweat from exertion.

He was _intense_.

Gingerly, she made to stand beside the piano, needing to get closer to him, that grew hotter by the minute, glistening in the middle of the cold room.

Before she could get within his reach, however, he stopped playing. The abruptness made her jump and sudden silence fell on her like a ton of bricks.

“Ren” called a sharp voice from the other side of the smoky room. Ren didn’t move and didn’t take his eyes off the keys he had just been playing. “Didn’t we give you a list?”

“This was better than the list”

His voice was dark, deep and filled with anger. A ginger man appeared next to him, wearing a sneer on his face and a red rose in his lapel.

“Allow me to remind you that, at _Snoke's_ , we don’t pay you to fool around. Either you stick to the list or you get the fuck out. And remember, once you get out, there’s no coming back.”

Ren looked up at the much slender figure beside him, but his eyes were shielded from her. All she could see was his back drenched in sweat and his flexing forearms through the cloth of his tight jacket. She supposed his fists were clenched, fighting some dark urge to give into his rage.

Instead, he nodded tamely, with great difficulty, and lowered his head again.

“Good. Now go. Phasma’s girls are ready for their show and you know how she hates when we keep her waiting.”

Without further comment, he disappeared from sight and left the mysteriously docile piano man to pick up his things. Musicians began gathering on stage as a Burlesque number was being announced on the mic.

While everyone's attention went to the girls and their enticing act, Rey was still waiting for him. She didn’t know what to say or do but was hopelessly rooted to the spot. She swallowed, ignoring how dry her mouth was, how hard it was, suddenly, to breathe. She fought to gather her wits, desperately drawn to him, trying to grasp what had just happened, to praise him, _to make him see_ -

She felt a sharp pain on her shoulder, the weight of a bulking figure smashing against it. His shadow passed without spearing a glance, not caring to see how insulted and humiliated she had been by his sudden disappearance. He stormed out of the place and she was too dumbfounded to race after him. Later, walking home and trying to ignore the biting cold of L.A. in December, she guessed that, if she had caught up with him, she would have certainly punched him on the nose. Repeatedly.

Pity she would not see him again to make good on her promise. Because she _had_ promised herself that, after that little show, it was exactly what he deserved.

She looked at his perfectly sculptured nose now and felt slightly mortified.

“What?” he asked, as she struggled to associate the image of the intriguing musician with the man in front of her. This man that had captivated her months before now stood before her looking like and overgrown geek, dressed as none other than _Darth fucking Vader_ , no less, in the middle of spring. His costume was the most elaborate and, indeed, the only one in the crowd of tanned bodies that were laughing and splashing water all over the place. The affair was supposed to be a costume party but, when the sun began to itch and it was announced that the pool was ready to use, everyone had ditched the fancy dresses in favour of swimsuits.

He hadn’t, however, and stubbornly stuck to the dark Sith apparel. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and the mask (fully equipped to produce the particular breathing sounds of Lord Vader, she guessed) was held under his arm as he drank his third mojito in a row.

She stood before him in a pretty yellow sundress and, upon encountering him at the bar, couldn’t help but looking at him. His raven black hair fell lusciously on his massive shoulders, even though the majority of it was caught up in a short ponytail. Although he was decidedly not pretty, he was still painfully attractive as she remembered (his ridiculous choice of clothes and the aggravated look on his face notwithstanding).

Rey hadn’t expected to run into him again, half a year later, least of all in Poe’s birthday party. Destiny had other plans and, even though she couldn’t punch him without ruining her friend’s get-together, she decided to have fun and exercise a little revenge of her own.

 


	2. the right impression?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo is hot and Rey knows how to handle it.

“Well, if it isn’t _Frat Boy_ der” she said into her mojito, taking a sip.

He did a double take, almost dropping his own drink and gaped. Oh, this was going to be fun.

“ _Excuse me_?”

“Darth Vader, right?” she mended quickly, looking up and down at his figure. He seemed taller, if that was at all possible, all clad in black, but his pout messed up the whole image of a calm, collected intergalactic villain.

“Cool costume... even if the lightsaber is a bit off.”

She pointed vaguely at the region below his waist with the hand holding the drink and scrunched her nose, looking down and up at him again. He was definitely going crimson.

Her deliberate jab at his manhood wasn’t lost on him as he bit the inside of his cheek in spite. He took out the toy weapon from his black belt and held it out.

“If you must know," he began in a barely restrained low voice, "it is a crossguard blade.” He looked at the saber and then back at her. “But I suppose you can’t be bothered with the details, since you didn’t even bother to dress up at all".

“Oh, I did!” she replied, showing off her own dress, smiling so brightly it made her face sting, “More spring friendly than a big black cloak, though.” she said, running her eyes appreciatively through his biceps, which had him narrowing his eyes at her but puffing out a bit of chest too, none the less. 

“Yes, well, Poe said it was fancy dress and this is the only one I own. How was I supposed to know…?” he trailed off, looking around at the barely covered bodies around him.

“You could take it off,” she offered tartly, gulping down the rest of her drink but still holding on to the glass. She took half a step closer and flashed him a tiny smile. His surprised reaction at her forwardness was replaced by something darker that reminded her briefly of the intensity of his piano playing.

“Yeah?” he asked, picking up her playful tone, “Why don’t you take _yours_ off?”

She giggled and forced herself to shut up, quickly. God, this was almost _too_ easy. 

“I didn’t bring my swimsuit with me today” she answered coyly, avoiding his gaze and fidgeting with her dress with her free hand. 

He smirked but didn’t take is eyes off her. “Poor excuse, sunshine”.

The nickname, otherwise kind of cute, sounded infuriating coming from his mouth. Condescending little prick that he was, he probably thought she would melt upon hearing it. Instead of addressing it, however, she went on, never breaking eye contact: “Well, if you must know... I only strip during working hours and, by the look of it, honey," she said in a low whisper near his chest, "there’s no chance you can afford me”.

She delivered the lie smoothly, which caused him to falter and nearly cough out his drink. That was not the answer he was expecting and not one he was remotely used to. He closed his lips in a thin line and went very red, in spite of himself. When she looked at him expectantly, he raised his eyebrows and looked down at her again swallowing at the seriousness he read in her eyes. She could practically see him doing mental back-flips to match her sunny appearance with the new image of a sultry goddess, barely covered and gorgeous, unexpectedly teasing him and his Sith Lord alter ego.

His blush and his sudden loss of words brought upon a fit of laughter that got her sides hurting in no time.

“The look on your face!”

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and the spell was broken. He turned to leave, more ashamed than he was letting on.

“I should have taken a _picture_ ”.

“Good to know someone is enjoying this lame excuse of a party!” he spat, yanking his cloak behind him, dramatically exiting the living room area. 

“You had me in tears, Mr. Vader!" she moaned bringing a hand to her face. "And you didn’t need to wag your glowing stick at me, not even once!” she then yelled after him, not able to hold back her laughter anymore, while he elbowed people out of the way as quickly as he could. Indignation bubbled up and he struggled with the impulse to correct her very baldy. However, he refrained from doing so as he made it out of the house, all hot under the collar and not only because of his stuffy costume.

For the second time in their brief acquaintance he stormed out of her life but, as she looked at his tall frame disappear into the street, Rey decided that this time watching him go felt immensely more satisfying. 


	3. there's only you and I (although I’d never fall for you at all)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They won't dance, and yet, here they are.

“Where are you, you fucking piece of junk?” he murmured darkly, walking round and round the parking area for what it felt like the millionth time that day. He wanted to go back home and be done with this shitty day as soon as it was physically possible.

“Still lurking, your highness?” a shrill voice said in distinctive English accent.

_Fuck._

He stood before her in the middle of the street, his long arms hanging at his sides, feeling gangly and out of place. Both cloak and mask were off and he was sporting the look of a man frustrated to no end.

“Great” he growled in annoyance at the sight of her. “I’m sorry, were you not done mocking me back there?”

Her mirth was replaced by a hard look as she raised her index finger to his face. She approached him and, instinctively, he took a step back.

“Hey, you brought that on yourself, mister. It’s not my fault if you can’t tone down the drama and have a friendly exchange once in a while.”

“ _That_ was nowhere _near_ friendly and you know it” he rasped through gritted teeth.

“You’re right, I’m the absolute worst. I should have never made fun of your ridiculously over-the-top costume or gotten your hopes up making you believe I take my clothes off for money.”

“That… I didn’t- _God, you’re so infuriating!_ ”

“See, you’re so easy! You get worked up really fast!”

“I’d be leaving pretty fast too if my fucking car were somewhere in sight!,” he barked, with a humourless laugh.

“If it makes you feel better, that makes two of us.”

“I don’t see how that can _possibly_ make it better for me.”

“What is your car like?”

“Old”.

Nonplussed, she insisted:

“That’s it? That’s all you are giving me to go on?”

“I don’t want to give you anything, I just want to _leave_.” he stressed the last word, looking at her as if she was toying with the last shred of his sanity. He scratched his neck under his collar and let out a frustrated growl, fighting the temptation to rip it off. 

“Okay, fair is fair. Just thought you might want some help from the nuisance you’re running away from to do it faster, since I'm the only one here right now. Maybe you can help me find mine too,” she suggested, all business and practical. “Either way, no matter whoever goes first, I’ll be out of your hair in no time. What do you say?”

He looked at her wearily and, after what seemed like a lifetime, he nodded his agreement with an air of resignation worthy of a man condemned to die for his crimes.

They exchanged detailed descriptions of their respective vehicles and began walking side by side, surveying the endless parked cars around them.

“You know,” she began, looking for his grey Ford Falcon amidst all the Audis and Alfa Romeos. “I never caught your name back there”.

“I never said it,” he answered curtly, pointedly not looking at her, surveying the area for her patched up orange Volvo. _It is a unique choice of colour_ , she had said, though he had come up with other ways to qualify it. Still, he held his tongue and thought that, perhaps, its uniqueness may prove an advantage, in this case, making it easier to spot.

“Well?” she pressed, turning to him.

“Ren. Kylo Ren”.

She was about to snort and joke about "his James Bond approach to introductions", but she remembered she was trying to make this moment bearable for both of them and decided to keep quiet. Instead, she schooled her expression into a polite little smile and, stopping in front of him, she extended her hand as a friendly gesture. “Nice to meet you, Kylo. I’m Rey”.

He eyed her suspiciously. She stood awkwardly with her hand in the air, half-expecting him to bolt again. To her surprise, he took off his glove and clasped her tiny hand in his, getting closer.

“Rey” he echoed, not releasing her immediately, his eyes on hers suddenly serious, almost solemn.

“Little and easy to remember,” she quipped good-naturedly, letting out a breathy laugh at the sight of him towering over her.

“Noted”.

His voice was so low she was sure she could hear the vibrations in his chest. Her brain short-circuited at the sound, just as her senses had done all those months ago in that sordid little jazz club. Gazing into his eyes, she came to realise that an afternoon in the company of this unreadable man made her feel more light-headed than all the cocktails in L.A.

Getting her hand back, suddenly shy, she decided to walk ahead a few steps. When she did, he ran the hand that had just released hers through his hair and took a deep, exasperated breath. 

Thinking back at that moment afterwards, neither of them could say what had happened. Maybe the moon was to blame, shining on them both and making everything smoother and more ethereal. Maybe it had been the stars and the city lights that had appeared from nowhere and in no time filled the air with wonder. All they knew was that, as he placed his cloak around her shoulders immediately after her wordless shiver, he couldn't resist the urge of fishing out the hand he had clasped so closely minutes before and scribbling his number. She did the same on his (her handwriting little and rushed on his enormous palm) and, after stepping into their newly found cars and driving in opposite directions, they were very careful not to smear the ink on their skin, suddenly fearful of losing track of each other forever. 


	4. brave or just insane (we’ll have to see)

“Why don’t you just take the Mercedes like normal kid your age?” asked Han, thrusting him the magazine where the sports car was featured.

“I don’t want it. I’m good with the Falcon”. He knew he was being stubborn, that he would benefit big time from having a brand new car ( _black as night and fast as thunder_ as the ad promised) at his disposal, courtesy of his parents guilt for his tempestuous upbringing, but it was a matter of principle. That and the fact that he also had a soft spot for all things vintage, which he could tell his father understood. He had been surprised when Kylo – _Ben_ , Han insisted – had shown an interest in it and he had bequeath it to him with an odd mixture of apprehension and pride.

“She’s a sturdy car, alright.” Han flashed his trademark grin which made him look years younger. He lapsed briefly into memory lane, thinking back at his own roguish years of youth and adventure across the country. “Are you taking good care of it?”

“It’s a _car_. It has gas. I’ll be fine.”

For all his nonchalance, though, he was painfully aware of how he had neglected it during the last few years. He had promised his father in all seriousness to keep it in perfect shape. Turns out keeping it that way was more expensive than what he could afford, and money had been running low as of late.

Han knew, of course, and he also knew his son was too proud to ask for help, especially his. So he went about it the best he could.

“Chewie and I could take a look if you want…” Before Ben could object, he beat him to the punch, “Oh, humor your old man, will you?”

“ _Fine._ Whatever.”

The older Solo smirked and shook his head. As he followed his son to the garage he couldn’t help but think on how much they were alike.   

 

* * *

 

“How long has it been since you called your mother?” Han asked all of a sudden, giving a wrench to Chewie, who was extending his hand from underneath the vehicle.

Kylo bristled and said nothing for a while. When he spoke, his tone was cold.

“Is this what it's going to be like? You, keeping tabs on me under false pretenses?”

His father blinked and raised a finger. The boy may be approaching his thirties now, but he wasn't above lecturing from his old man. 

“Hey! We _are_ fixing the damn circuits. Chewie here says it’s a miracle it's still running.” As if on cue, Chewie growled from underneath the Falcon and Kylo flinched in shame and annoyance. Han ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “But you know what I mean.”

“Yes.” The younger man answered tersely, “I know. We are just… not in good terms right now.”

Han tried again, for Leia’s sake. She had sounded so heartbroken on the phone the night before it had made his chest hurt. The moment he picked up he knew she must have been in pretty rough shape to ask him for help so openly. They were both aware Ben wasn’t easy to talk to, but maybe Han would have better luck reaching out to him than her. “ _I just miss him so much, Han. I… I hardly remember what his voice sounds like_. _My own son’s voice..._ ”. He had done the best he could to comfort her, cursing the distance that prevented him from hugging her close, and dropped by Ben’s house the next day, to the young man’s surprise. Luckily, he didn’t close the door in his face, though he suspected, remembering Leia’s broken sobs, if he had, he would have kicked it down in turn.

“She may seem tough, kid, but she worries about you. You know she means well.” He added softly, desperate to convey the depth of his wife’s pain.

At that Kylo groaned.

“She _always_ does! Doesn’t always come across that way, though!”

The dam inside his chest holding his feelings in check broke loose and, before he knew what he was doing, everything was pouring out viciously, making him red-faced.

“Ever since I quitted Rebellion Records, nothing I did was good enough for her. _Nothing!_ She said she didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, jumping from job to job, without giving a fuck about anything or anyone, that I wouldn’t get anywhere if I didn’t start to take things seriously. And _then_ , when I landed the gig at _Snoke’s_ ,  - which was a very big fucking opportunity, thank you very much - she _freaked_! She didn’t call me for three years! Three fucking years, dad! All because I didn’t follow her carefully laid out plans! She wasn’t worried enough to call me, not even on my birthday. Not even on Christmas! What kind of person doesn’t call her own son on _fucking Christmas_! So, _please_ , tell me, who’s holding out on who?”

He felt absolutely ridiculous, awkwardly leaning on his father’s chest as the older man reached out to him and pulled him into an embrace. They hadn’t done this for so long – god, _had it really been that long?_ – but it felt... _good_ , despite their clumsiness.

“Hey… hey.” Han did his best to soothe him, his own voice thick with emotion. “It’s all right”.

Kylo wrestled out of his father’s embrace and immediately felt cold. “No, it’s not. Look-” he stood to his full height but didn’t feel as tall as he was. “I know you two think I’m being used, that I’m not living up to my full potential, but… soon, I’ll make my own rules and, one day, I’ll be dancing to my own tune. Right now it all seems kind of bleak,” he looked around a bit helpless, “but, trust me, I know what I have to do.”

They stayed silent for a moment. Han let out a breath and looked away, asking Chewie if he needed anything. Kylo opened the passenger’s door and took out a bunch of bills from the glove compartment. He turned to his father.

“Dad”.

“Son”.

“Do you trust me?” asked Kylo, noting his hands were sweaty.

“I do”.  

Kylo let out a shaky breath. “Will you help me?”

“Yes.” He replied, without missing a beat. “Anything.”

His son handed out five unpaid bills marked with angry warnings of _FINAL NOTICE_ in red, capital letters. “Could you take care of these for me? Only this month, I promise” he hastened to add.

His father smiled, took the bills and put them in his jacket pocket without breaking eye-contact.

“Look, kid, I know we have not always been the best parents…” Kylo raised his eyebrows and gave him a look that seemed to say how much of an understatement that was, “but we are here now and doing our best. We miss you, you know.”

One part of him expected his son to shut down, as was his way, ashamed somehow at having shown so much vulnerability. He was in luck, however, because, instead of retreating, Ben struggled to speak.

“Dad, I… I am trying, OK? Doesn’t come easy for me but… believe me, I’m trying.”

It was progress. Small, but progress, and he’d take it.

“I know. Are we done here, Chewie?”

The man under the car grunted and Han took it as a sign they were almost over.

His Ben stepped forward. “I owe you."

_Thank you._

Han palmed his shoulder and gave it a brief squeeze, resisting the urge of pulling him into another hug. “Invite us a beer and we’ll call it even.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ISN'T IT NICE WHEN NOBODY DIES? *blows nose*
> 
> I love the Solo boys. They are ~trying and ~doing their best SHUDDUP. *curls up in a corner*


	5. ready to be found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I went full coffee shop AU here.

To say it was a busy morning would be to downplay the actual _chaos_ that reigned in the coffee shop. Two groups of tourists and several regulars from casts and crews from the studios nearby became Rey’s personal hell. She and Finn were alone that Thursday, covering for Jessika and Rose (one had called in sick and the other had gone to visit her very pregnant sister upstate to welcome her niece). At first they had agreed because they realized they could use the extra money, but now, as she hurried to prepare the thousandth frapuccino that day while Finn struggled to take new orders amidst the noise, she began wondering if it was really worth it.

Spoiler alert: it wasn't. Her back hurt from standing so many hours and she had milkshake mix all over her apron. Absentmindedly, she poured the milk into the blender, along with the mix and, and pressed the button automatically. Finn's voice woke her up. He sounded more alarmed than usual, even though she was used to seeing him like this when it was his turn to take orders. 

“Peanut! _Please_ tell me you are making that with soy milk.”

She looked at him and then at the blender running between her hands. She looked down at the pile of mixed milk cartons in the bin, lost and confused.

“Oh, god, I don’t remember. I don’t remember. _I just_ …” She gritted her teeth, more irrationally angry at an electronic device than she had even been, and looked ready to throw all away _and smash it into the nearest wall_ when Finn stepped in.

“OK, honey, that’s enough.” He said, gently moving her away from the kitchen counter, as if she were dangerous. Right now, she kind of was, she supposed. “This guy _specifically_ asked a frapuccino with soy milk and no whipped cream in a no-nonsense tone that made _an actual chill_ run up my spine. You _don't_ want to mess this up. Here, let me. Go ahead and tell him I’ll be right there with his order.”

“Thank you, Finn.” she sighed, defeated.

“And girl, please, call him already, will you? So you can get back in the game!”

Rey blushed and ducked her head, walking out without saying a thing but remembering Kylo’s number written down on a napkin, stored in her bottom drawer at home. She was stubbornly waiting for him to make the first move, but as the days passed, she itched to do it herself and be done with it. Rey told herself that, between work and auditions, she was exhausted enough to end up snoring on the other side of the line, but the truth was she was scared shitless.

And yet, his cloak (washed, pressed, neatly folded on a chair in a corner of her room) and the ink of his pen fading slowly from her right hand were a reminder that she had stumbled on something special that maybe deserved to be explored, no matter how nervous it made her.

 _This afternoon_ , she promised herself, making her way, smoothing her apron with her hands, _this afternoon I’ll-_

“Hey!”

“Ren?”

“Rey?”

“Hi.”

A beat.  

The sound of the register being opened took them out of their reverie. She didn't remember pressing the button. As a reflex, he took out his wallet.

“You didn’t call”.

“Neither did you”, he pointed out, a little briskly while his fingers sorted through the bills. 

Rey struggled to sound casual, feeling somewhat cornered.

“It has been… complicated”.

“Yeah, you could say that. But I got you now.” He countered somewhat vehemently, taking the money and giving it to her without taking his eyes off her. “I mean, we are talking _now_.”

“I guess… Until your order is good to go, at least.”

He rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. “Come on, sweetheart, work with me here!”. He followed her promptly from one side of the counter to the other as she went to look for sugar and napkins, hiding her face from his piercing eyes for a while. Silently she cursed this guy, who dared to sound so unbearably charming and not at all like the chilling, dark figure whose order Finn had the displeasure of taking. “You have breaks, yes?

Looking up, Rey felt the blood spreading through her face like wildfire. Still, she answered. “In an hour.”

“Tell you what. I’ll pick you up, we’ll grab a bite and… take it from there. What do you say?”

At that moment, Finn came back a little breathless with the large drink and a cinnamon roll ( _on the house, for the wait_ ). Kylo took them, nodding his thanks. The boyish grin from before was gone, replaced by a stoic expression. He turned to her and waited for her response. Gathering up her courage, she looked straight at him and nodded quickly, flashing him her first genuine smile in weeks. He said nothing, only bit into his courtesy roll and waved at her until he was out on the street again. Her eyes didn’t leave his until he disappeared behind the crowd, his gaze heavy on her and full of promise.    


	6. a spark in sight

The atmosphere was no less febrile during the next hour but Rey welcomed it. As much as it had upset her before, now being outrageously busy was a relief, allowing her to escape, however briefly, from her own anxiety at the prospect of meeting him again. Up until now, she had been running into him randomly, but now she realized, she’d have to _talk_  to him, actually engage in a (more-or-less) adult conversation in the context what Finn gleefully called  _a date_.

“It was high time and we both know it. I’ll admit, the Universe has a twisted sense of humor, throwing you two together–” he said making a face as she chuckled and moved to the counter to make a fresh pot of coffee, expertly grinding the beans in the machine, “but I, for one, welcome it”.

Rey shook her head and inhaled deeply as the delicious smell of newly made coffee filled her lungs and helped to ease her nerves about this whole going out business. She had had fairly disappointing experiences in the past in that area, and, after a while she had stopped trying, gradually coming to terms with being on her own. Her personal life was not something she considered in her plans for the future and relationships were simply something that seem to happen to others. Up until recently, she had been okay with it.

That is, until life had decided to pair her up with an unnerving, gigantic, probably lactose-intolerant geek who, for some reason, had taken an interest (however small) in her. He had in turn awakened something in her, much like his music had, by pure chance, that first night (now eerie and unreal in her memory).

Before she could try to understand what any of this meant, Finn yanked her apron insistently.

“Cute boyfriend at 12 o’clock!”

“He’s _not_ my boyfriend” Rey replied as she took off the apron and turned to the window.

She hated to admit, though, he _did_ look kind of cute, in a strange way, leaning on a lamppost on the other side of the street. His tall frame, all black and imposing, contrasted with the bright and multi-colored streets of L. A., but he didn't seem to notice or care.  When he felt her eyes on him, he waved and showed her the paper bag that contained, she suspected, their lunch.

Waving back rather clumsily, she addressed her friend.  

“I promise I’ll be back on time.”

When Finn didn’t respond, she tore her gaze from the man outside and looked at him. He was tapping madly into his phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Telling Poe about your hot date, _obviously_. He’s asking me for a picture of you two. He feels he’s entitled to one, since you met at his place and all.”

“Don’t you dare!” she hissed, panic settling in her belly. Too many people were witnessing this, already.

He laughed and took his phone out of her reach before she had the chance to turn it into a smoothie, as he knew she was completely capable of doing.    

“Come on, peanut, you’re no fun!”

“I’m off. I’m exiting the building. I’m officially going out!”, she announced bravely to Finn, the world and, mostly, herself. It was all so ridiculous but she was too excited to care.

“Yeah, you are!" he echoed with a cheeky grin. "Take care and tell him I’ll ruin that long, perfect nose if he tries something funny!”

Rey guffawed as she picked up her backpack from underneath the counter and swung it over her shoulder. 

“Will definitely do”.


	7. one thing everybody wants

At the sight of her, he straightened himself, taking his hands out of his pockets and removed his sunglasses.

“Hey!”

She was now trotting towards him (in a very cute way, he thought). “Hey yourself”.

“Hungry?” he asked with a smile, holding up the paper bag in front of her.

“Oh, you have no idea!” Rey answered, slightly out of breath, flustered at how raw her voice sounded at the thought of food.

“Hope I made the right choice.” His smile deepened as he searched the bag. He took out a brown package and, without warning, threw it playfully at her. Rey was startled for a millisecond but recovered quickly enough to catch it with a smirk.

She raised her eyebrows at him and he stood staring at her, both impressed and amused.

“Cool reflexes”.

“I don’t mess around with food” she replied, tearing apart the paper to reveal a very delicious looking sandwich that seemed to have pretty much everything two loaves of bread could hold in between.

“I take it you like it?”

She looked up and met his eyes. In them she read his amusement but also his trepidation. Her gaze was drawn to his slightly pouty lips and his angular cheeks, now reddening somehow under her scrutiny. Something settled low in her belly at the sight of this huge man in front of her whose need for reassurance that he hadn’t cocked it all up was written so plainly in his features. She smiled brightly at him.

Kylo relaxed and nodded, evidently pleased with her answer. He bent his head slightly, suddenly shy, and the movement brought several strands of hair to his eyes. Her fingers itched to remove them from his sight but didn’t. 

They walked together and found a quiet spot just around the corner. There was a bench big enough for both of them and some trees scattered around the street provided enough shadow for them to eat comfortably. For a moment they were happy enough to bite into their sandwiches, at ease with each other’s company. When she turned to ask him if he had brought any liquid by any chance, he held out a soda to her face, bearing a knowing expression and a cocky grin she vowed to wipe off at the first opportunity she got.

She drank greedily, realizing just how thirsty she was. It was then when she heard him laugh under his breath.

“What?” she asked, not as indignant as she would have liked. Damn those eyes that were on her again, dark as ever and filled with mirth. 

“You’re adorable”.

At that, Rey suppressed a very unladylike snort, discretely wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. “You find my eating _adorable_? Well, that’d be a first. Finn says I eat like the world is about to end and he's right.”

“Yeah, it's more like watching a voracious little jungle cat!” The words came out of his mouth before he could process them and, if it hadn’t been for his black hair covering his ears (too big for his face, as the mirror reminded him every time he looked at himself in the privacy of his home) she would have seen them going red with embarrassment.

She scrunched her nose at his remark and laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. 

"Oh, really? Well, I think you'd make a wonderfully grave _giraffe_ , chewing leaves while judging us from afar". 

Before he could help it he was laughing too, doing his best not to choke with his own turkey sandwich (which he proceeded to bite very quickly in order to stop his mouth from babbling more nonsense).

He didn’t have to spend much time with Rey to find out that being with her was _easy_. There was something about her vivaciousness and her wit, but also her gentleness, that was hopelessly appealing to him. He wished he could be so comfortable and easily kind around people.

He certainly was trying to be _now_ , for her sake.  

"Do you like jazz?" he asked, somewhat distracted by the way she was licking her fingers, sated and happy. 

She shrugged. "I don't really care for it." 

His expression must have changed because she was quick to add: "It's not that I'm repulsed by it or anything! I just... well, I don't know much about it and I have never had the chance to, you know, get into it". 

Rey waved her hands too much as she spoke, very nervous. She ventured a look at Kylo, who had finished eating and was now focused on her. Contrary to what she expected, he didn't appeared to be upset or put off. He seemed rather curious, looking at her intently, as if he was trying to memorize her appearance. 

"I understand" he said in a low voice.

A warm spring breeze began to blow, soflty shaking the leaves above them. 

She lowered her gaze to her hands, blushing as the memory of him playing at the dingy club that night ages ago crashed into her like a wave. "You like it. You _love_ it."

He was taken aback but he replied, without hesitation. "I do. Is it really that obvious?"

"I saw you play. At _Snoke's_." she confessed quickly, upset at how embarrassed she felt, as if she had gotten caught doing something wrong which was ridiculous. She had witnessed his musicianship along with a handful of music lovers in L.A.!

And yet, Rey somehow knew, deep in her gut, that there was something about his music that she alone had been able to pick up. It was hard to put into words, but she just _knew_ that others might have been listening along with her that night, but none of them experienced what she had at his beckoning.  

His eyes darkened and she wondered if he could listen to her thoughts. She didn’t know if his face had gotten closer or if it was her perception of this new intimacy between them, brought about by her revelation.  

"You did? When?" 

"Back in December. You left in the middle of it. Had some sort of argument and stormed away from the place". 

His lips twitched. He remembered that night. Of course he remembered. The memory of it had played over and over in his mind and had always left him a bitter taste, almost palpable in his mouth.

"You played _beautifully_ ". 

Her voice was shy but her eyes were open when he lifted his head to meet them. His chest felt very tight, but also warm, as if she had placed her hand on it with infinite kindness. He looked down briefly to see if that was the case, because it felt so very real. Alas, her hands were far away from him, resting on the bench.  

"I thought you said you didn't care for jazz" he reminded her, still looking at her hands.

"I cared then."

They both felt it, at the time. It was as if something had clicked into place between them. They both looked at each other, and for a moment all nervousness went away and was replaced with a feeling of relief and something akin to happiness.

His voice, deep enough to crack the earth and made of velvet, broke the illusion:

"You know... I play tonight. In a new joint.” He shifted on the seat and ran a hand through his hair. “It's a hell of a lot smaller than _Snoke's_ , but the musicians are the best L.A. has to offer. You could come. You _should_ come.”

She jerked her head up at the intensity of his last appeal. “To continue your jazz education, that is.” he hurried to explain in a business-like tone that was betrayed by the spark dancing in his eyes.  

“Oh, really? Am I being educated now?". 

She crossed her arms and legs, suddenly feeling very exposed.  

He leaned forward, pressing his elbows to his knees. "Well, objectively speaking, jazz is the best music ever and it's just criminal that people think it's only fitting for waiting rooms and cheap motels. It's not your fault you can't appreciate it, though.” he added, tilting his head at her. 

She laughed at this puzzling hunk of a man, capable of looking sheepish at one moment and utterly intimidating the next, wondering if he thought through what he said before actually saying it.

Her answer came swiftly when he spoke again, his head still tilted. 

“You need a teacher”.

Was he serious or was he flirting? Rey cursed herself for not being able to pick this up as efficiently as she would have liked. His baritone voice sounded like an invitation, though.

"And that'd be you?" she asked, hoping he wouldn’t notice her poor attempt at playing coy. He didn’t scoff or roll his eyes. Instead he said nothing and straightened in his seat, smiling in a way that made her belly jump.

Emboldened by the warmth in his gaze, she asked: 

"Will you play it again?" 

"What?"

"What you played that night, will you play it again tonight?"

He could practically taste the challenge in her voice and it was _delicious_. He realized right then and there how frankly, stupidly and utterly lost he was to this woman.   

"I might. If you come". 

 _Definitely_ an invitation.

The alarm of her wrist watch went off breaking whatever spell they had conjured together and brought her back to the reality that her break was officially and painfully over. At the unpleasant sound she jumped and made to stand.

"Aw, shit! Is that the time?”

He stood up quickly as well but didn’t move. Rey arranged her bag on her shoulders and tugged at her hair to arrange her messy bun.  

"I promised to be there on time and I'm..."

"What?" 

"Late." She finished lamely, bending her neck to look him in the eye.

"Relax, Cinderella, you won't turn into a pumpkin just yet." Kylo joked, sounding far smoother than what he was, rearranging a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Taking advantage of her supernatural reflexes, she reached for his jacket. Her strength and her softness made him lose his little amount of cool as he bent awkwardly for her to give him a peck on the cheek. Before he could catch her and finish what she started, she removed herself from within his grasp.

Rey was already sprinting back to the coffee shop when she yelled over her shoulder, “Text me the details!”

"Better yet!” he shouted after her, all might and excitement. “Text _me_ your address and I'll pick you up!"

**Author's Note:**

> I DON'T KNOW, ALRIGHT? It just... happened. I plan on finishing it because I want to see this through, so stay tuned for more. I'll try to update as regularly as I can. 
> 
> This is my first time writing this pairing, so please, do let me know what you think. Feedback is welcome as always, it really means a lot! 
> 
> I don't own anything, I'm just having fun with my OTP. 
> 
> Comments/kudos are love! <3 Feedback is greatly appreciated :)
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)


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